


She Ain't Mrs. Robinson

by skitzofreak



Series: little by little, one travels far [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bodhi Rook lays down some knowledge, Cassian is not a friendly guy when he doesn't have to be, F/M, K2SO is not impressed, Mild Descriptions of Injury, Mission Fic, POV shift in the epilogue, Puppy Love, UST (kind of), Unreliable Narrator, and Jyn has always been kind, and not really interested in being friends, new guy tries to hang with the pros, temporary assignment, unrequited love (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skitzofreak/pseuds/skitzofreak
Summary: (And You're No Joe Dimaggio)--“Sergeant Erso,” the girl supplied, holding out her hand in a traditional Core world gesture. Lenny supposed that must be where she was from, given her accent and her manners. He shook her hand, and with relief saw that she was still smiling at him a little, despite his awkwardness. “Welcome aboard. We launch in about thirty minutes, so you better run and grab your kit.” She seemed leagues nicer than the major, so Lenny smiled back and let himself relax a little. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad an assignment after all.





	1. a little bit about you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbird/gifts).



> _we'd like to know a little bit about you (for our files)_

There were a lot of reasons a low-tier soldier might get called up to the Alliance Command center, Lenny knew. He hadn’t been around very long, but it was painfully obvious within the first few days that the Alliance operated on what it could get, and what it could get was usually best summed up as “not enough.” So a ground pounder like himself might get pinged for routine guard duty (because the regular security guys got called to the front line), or he might get pinged for message running, or as part of a small team to handle some issue that cropped up on whatever base they were hiding from the Empire in (Cardooine was Lenny’s second base already, and he hadn’t even been a rebel a full year). Lenny had even heard of random grunts being called up to help take out trash when the mouse droids malfunctioned or were just too overloaded with the rest of the base. He didn’t mind, really – most people joined the rebellion because there were worse things in the universe than having to take out the trash – but new guy or not, if there was one thing Lenny had learned from his time with the paramilitary rebel Alliance, it was one thing to get called up to Command by one of the sergeants for some grunt work, but it was another thing entirely to be called up by the general in charge of Rebel Intelligence.

“Private Second Class Lendan Tonnor,” the general drawled, glancing from Lenny’s rigid face to the softly glowing datapad in his hand, the datapad that presumably had the entirety of Lenny’s (admittedly short) life scrolling down the screen. “Recruited after the Portocari action,” the general paused, his voice lowering, “three months after Alderaan. You have family on Alderaan, Tonnor?”

“No sir,” Lenny forced out through dry lips, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead and his stance correct the way Master Sergeant had taught his indoc class (feet at the forty-five degrees, thumbs along his trouser seams, _and don’t you lock your knees and pass out in front of the general, Tonnor!)_ “No sir, I just thought - ” He broke off, because sheesh, Lenny, the general doesn’t care what you _thought!_

But  - “You thought?” the general stepped a little closer and looked down at him (he was a big man, General Draven, tall and bulky, his nose crooked from an old injury and his eyes perpetually narrowed as he stared into Lenny’s very soul. Could the old man read minds? Oh please, please, don’t let him be able to read minds.)

“It, uh,” Lenny fumbled, his hands clenched tight and sweating a little bit. “I saw the battle over Portocari and it just...It seemed like the right thing to do. Sir.”

The general seemed to think that over for a minute, then looked back at the datapad, expressionless. “You’ve been with us four months,” he continued thoughtfully. “And already a Private Second Class. Quick promotion. In the Republic Army, a private was required to serve a minimum of a full year before they could even apply for promotion.” The general’s eyes stayed on the datapad, but they suddenly seemed a little unfocused, far away. Lenny swallowed and trained his gaze on the blank wall behind the general’s head, because it was always weird to meet people who had actually been around when the Republic was a real thing and not just a story everyone was always trying to re-write.

“Well, a couple First Classes ate it in our last action, sir,” he supplied helpfully. “So there were, uh, slots open.”

He regretted speaking the moment he was finished, of course, because the general’s eyes snapped back up to him, and they were not unfocused at all, now. “Indeed.” Lenny swallowed again and tried not to let his knees lock. Which wasn’t easy, because the other option was to let them shake just a little, but that seemed pretty pathetic, not at all soldier-like, so maybe it would be better if he just…ugh, what did Intel even _want_ with him?

“I want information on Portocari,” the general said, and Lenny stifled another bolt of panic because _oh crap_ , maybe Draven really could read minds. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, think manly thoughts, Lenny. _Hail the Alliance, down with the Empire, I really am totally not a spy or a nark or anything, please just let me go back to my unit_ – “You were raised in the capital, Private Lendan, and your recruitment interview mentioned that you had intimate knowledge of the layout around the Imperial base there.”

Lenny let out a small breath and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult to get maps or cultural references to Portocari,” the general scowled at the datapad one more time, and then turned it off and tossed it to what Lenny assumed was his desk in the crammed Command center. “It has always been an isolated planet, and lately the Empire has increased security around it. It took us three days to find someone in our ranks with local knowledge. I am therefore assigning you to a team of my operatives, who have need of your information. You are hereby detached from Carmine Squadron Mechanical Division and under temporary assignment to Thranta Team. Major Andor will be your reporting commander for the next three to five weeks.”

Temporary reassignment? Lenny rocked back on his heels, and only a thin thread of good sense managed to stop him from opening his mouth and blurting out a long string of questions. Granted, he didn’t know anyone else from Portocari here on Cardooine, but it wasn’t that big of a base – he’d just assumed there were more of his people out here somewhere, maybe at the main rebel base, wherever that was. But surely there was someone out there who could help, someone who’d at least been around for the whole war and not just the last few months? And what about his shift in the hangar, who was going to help Gol and Aralin and Kellirov patch up the A-wings? Who was going to make sure Aralin remembered to eat during her double shifts or that Gol was okay when his sister was out there flying around in the fighters?

But the general had already turned away from him, standing over his desk and tapping at a different datapad now. Lenny shifted his weight nervously, but he had obviously been dismissed, and General Draven did not seem like the kind of person who welcomed conversation. He turned and marched as smartly as he could through the Command center. Maybe he could swing by the hangar and tell Aralin where he was going. She was pretty cool, she could make him feel better about it before he left to find…Major Andor, of Thranta Team, that was it. Lenny had to find Major Andor and report for his new duty. Well, “Major” was still pretty high up from a Private Second Class’s point of view, but it was less intimidating than “General.” Maybe Major Andor would be nicer, or at least more approachable, and Lenny could ask a few questions of his own while the Major grilled him on his homeworld.

Uneasily, he wondered why Intel needed to know about Portocari anyway. Sure, there was an Imperial base there, just on the edge of the capital, and the big air battle a few months back that had given Lenny the opportunity to join the Alliance had been kind of a big deal. But was it really important to, what, destroy the base? That would be pretty rough for the city, after all. A lot of business came in and out of the base.

But then, the point was to get rid of the Empire, right? Lenny chewed his bottom lip a little as he darted through the bustling, packed Command center, almost tripping over a mouse droid that hummed at him indignantly and sped away under the desks. The whole war was about knocking out the people that killed a planet – a whole planet! And a Core world, too, not some backwater that hardly anyone knew about – and making sure they couldn’t do something like that again. So maybe losing the base on Portocari would lose some people some money. It would be worth it.

Lenny was still running this line of reasoning through his head, looking for holes, when the door to the hall outside of Command popped open right in front of him and he nearly walked directly into the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

“Oh, uh, sorry!” Lenny stumbled back, tripping a little over his suddenly too-big feet and nearly careening into a glass console display showing a map of the local system. The girl – oops, _sergeant_ – simply looked at him, watching through bright green eyes that made his heart skip a little in his chest. She was small, about ten centimeters shorter than Lenny, and her baggy, practical clothes made it hard to judge her exact dimensions but her features were soft, almost delicate under the wisps of brown hair that drifted down from her carelessly tied bun. She stood squarely in the door and looked up at him through smudged eyeliner that reminded him a little of the warpaint the ancient Portocar warriors were always wearing in old documentaries at home. Lenny steadied himself and cleared his throat. “Uh, excuse me, Sergeant,” he managed to stutter, hoping he didn’t sound like a total clod to this poised stranger.

“Private Tonnor,” she replied in a frank, calm voice that was just a little roughened by – well, he had no idea, but it gave a pleasant sort of dark texture to her words that made Lenny’s palms sweat all over again. And then his big dumb brain kicked in, and he jumped like he’d been stung.

“How do you know my - ? Uh, I mean, yes, Sergeant, that’s me.”

“We’re here to pick you up,” she said, and the edges of her pink lips curved with gentle amusement. Lenny swallowed again.

“We?” he hazarded, and then looked over the sergeant’s head.

“Private,” the Human male standing behind the sergeant said coolly, an accent that Lenny couldn’t quite place coloring his words. He was about eight centimeters taller than Lenny, but built leaner. Instead of Lenny’s soldier buzzcut, his dark hair was cut in a much more civilian style, and he had about three days of scruff that would have sent Lenny’s Master Sergeant into apoplectic fits. The girl stood like a fighter and had at least two weapons that Lenny could pick out at a glance, but the man could easily have been any random civie from a dozen random worlds. But his rank badge glinted in the dim greenish lights of the Command center, and his gaze was direct and steady on Lenny’s face.

“Major…Andor?” Lenny guessed, glancing between the sergeant and the officer.

“Nice to meet you,” the major said, polite and distant as the business contacts Lenny’s dad used to bring home for ‘networking’ dinners when he was a kid. “I presume you’ve been given the brief.” His face was just as blank as those businessmen, too, bored and empty and already moving on to some other thought. The hope that Major Andor might be more approachable than General Draven turned to stone and sank in Lenny’s stomach.

“Yes, sir. I did. I think.” Lenny hesitated, because what if the officer meant something else? Was there more than ‘tell us everything about the Imperial base on your homeworld?’ “ _A_ brief, anyway. I mean, the general told me I’m working for you. And, uh, I guess, _you_ , too.” He sent a nervous smile at the girl, and tried to ignore the unsettling fact that Major Andor’s face didn’t so much as flicker through his whole speech. The officer simply watched Lenny blunder all over the place, probably waiting for him to really stick his big boot in his mouth. If this was what he was always like, it was going to be a really long assignment.

“Sergeant Erso,” the girl supplied, holding out her hand in a traditional Core world gesture. Lenny supposed that must be where she was from, given her accent and her manners. He shook her hand, and with relief saw that she was still smiling at him a little despite his awkwardness. “Welcome aboard. We launch in about thirty minutes so you better run and grab your kit.” She seemed leagues nicer than the major, so Lenny smiled back and let himself relax a little. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad an assignment after all.

 

* * *

 

Thranta Team apparently had one more member, a thin Human pilot that greeted him by pressing his hands down on Lenny’s shoulders briefly and smiling. His left hand was oddly heavier than his right, but before Lenny could really ponder the significance of that, the pilot let go and stepped back gesturing towards the old HWK-290 light freighter that the team was apparently assigned for this operation. “Welcome to Ro- ah, I mean, _Thranta_ Team,” the pilot said, leading him up the gangplank. He shook his head a little at his own stutter and offered Lenny an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we change our name a lot and it always takes me a day or two to, to get it right.”

Lenny smiled back, secretly pleased to know that he wasn’t the only one who sometimes tripped over his words. Lieutenant Bodhi Rook seemed like a nice guy, only a few years older than himself, but so thin and twitchy that Lenny was reminded a lot of Gol and all his little nervous tics. Lenny half wanted to ask if Lieutenant Rook had a sister out in the fighter corps, too, but before he could make any kind of small talk, a huge figure clumped into the cargo bay from somewhere in the freighter. Lenny jumped back, staring, because what in the worlds was an _Imperial droid_ doing on a rebel base? But Rook didn’t seem to be scrambling for a weapon or running away screaming or a normal reaction like that, and Lenny definitely didn’t want to look like a wimp when a guy half his weight was cool as a mollusk. So he stepped back towards the door, poised to bolt, but didn’t draw his blaster just yet, watching.

“The provisions have been loaded according to spec,” the droid said in a clipped tone, and then turned it’s glowing optics to Lenny. “You are the asset.”

“This is Private Lendan Tonnor, Kay-too,” Rook said, turning and waving at Lenny. “Tonnor, this is K2SO. Don’t worry, he’s definitely on our side.”

The droid looked Lenny up and down – more down than up, really, because wow, he never realized how really big those things were. Lenny had never been this close to a KX series before. Did they need one of these for the mission? Spies always got up to crazy plots and stuff in the holos. Maybe the droid was part of some elaborate plan.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rook said in a soothing voice. “Nothing to worry about. Cassian took out the – I mean, uh, Cassian reprogrammed Kay himself.”

“Cassian is Major Andor’s given name,” the droid told him, and Lenny squinted up at that black, featureless face because he could almost have sworn that the droid was being condescending to him. But that was ridiculous, droid personality chips were rarely set to anything outside of ‘diplomatic’ or ‘work-oriented.’ “You appeared confused,” the droid added into the silence.

“And Major Andor can program Imperial droids to not kill us in our sleep?” Lenny asked cautiously, trying to sound neutral as possible. He’d heard that spooks did things a little different from ground pounders, and if Rook was on a first name basis with his superior officer, he probably wouldn’t like the new guy sounding dismissive or something.

“Yes,” a female voice said from behind, and Lenny whirled around to see the pretty – to see Sergeant Erso standing behind him, a pack slung over one shoulder and her other hand resting casually on her belt. She had swapped her Alliance brown uniform jacket for a dark leather jacket that made her look much less like a soldier and much more like one of those girls from the tougher side of town his mother always warned him about. Lenny’s stomach flip-flopped at the sight. “Ready to go?” She asked, striding up the ramp and into the freighter.

“Yes, Sergeant,” he adjusted his own rucksack on his shoulders, wondering if he looked too straight-laced and dull with his pack neatly clipped across his back.

Sergeant Erso slung her pack casually into a bin under a row of coat hooks along the wall and bumped Rook with her shoulder. Lenny watched carefully, but Rook’s answering smile was no different from the grin he’d given Lenny earlier. The pilot adjusted the goggles perched on his head and gestured down the narrow corridor that ran between the cabins, leading up to the cockpit. “Got my cabin picked out first this time,” he told her. “So this time I get the one with the viewport and you get the one behind the engine.”

Far from looking peeved, the sergeant shrugged and leaned against the bulkhead. “Won’t be in it much anyway,” she muttered, and then turned back to Lenny, a calculating look on his face. “You get the door bunk, then,” she said, “You okay with that?”

Lenny nodded automatically. “Yes, Sergeant.”

“We are prepared to launch on schedule,” the droid said before Lenny could think up something to say aside from ‘yes, sergeant.’ She was going to think he was a broken holo at this rate. “As soon as Cassian is aboard.”

Maybe the major was more relaxed than he’d seemed at first, if even the droid called him by his given name and not his rank. “Intel does it differently,” the sergeant said abruptly, and Lenny looked away from the droid to her face (a much better view anyway), his eyes wide. Sheesh, did everyone in Intel know how to read minds? He’d heard once that spooks got special bio-mods, or at least some really high-end drugs. Maybe they all took glimsticks or something, like those club dancers back home who spiced up and then spoke in dreamy voices while looking into your eyes.

Lenny had a brief mental image of Sergeant Erso dressed like a club dancer, her dark-rimmed green eyes shining with the golden sheen of spice as she traced her fingers over his hands and spoke in that smoky voice of hers – and he had to swipe his palms down his shirt sides discretely.

“Launch in ten minutes,” Major Andor said from behind him, and Lenny jumped several centimeters in the air and spun around. The major hit the doorpad behind him, somehow already up the ramp and in the cargo bay before Lenny even heard him coming, and gave the private a brief, disinterested glance. “Better get settled. Sergeant Erso will assign you quarters.”

“Done,” she said from the wall, and smirked a little as the major shifted his focus from Lenny to her.

“Good,” he replied, and Lenny thought for a moment that his flat voice changed a little to something less callous. But then the officer walked past her and into the corridor, the pilot hurrying to follow, and Lenny was left standing awkwardly between the droid and Sergeant Erso.

“It’s about ten hours to our layover point,” the sergeant told him. “We have to stop and wipe the ship registry, load our new identities into the flight system, that sort of thing. We’ll make a couple stops like that before we get to where we’re going.”

“Right.” That sounded like real spy stuff. He was really doing a spy mission for the Alliance. He’d…never been trained for that. He’d barely been trained for ground combat, in all honesty, most of his job centered around keeping the A-wings up and running on Cardooine, and on the base before that, he’d mostly just been a recruit following Aralin around and learning from her. “I, uh, I don’t know how good I’m going to be at,” he made a vague gesture, not sure how to explain himself without looking like a fool. “Remembering aliases and stuff.”

“You will be provided scandocs,” the droid said shortly. “The likelihood that you will be questioned by anyone is very low. At best, you will be required to memorize your false name.” The droid seemed to hunker slightly towards him, as if leaning down to peer into Lenny’s face critically. Lenny took a step back, because even if it was reprogrammed, that droid was just too big to be that close. “Is your memory sufficient for semi-regular name adjustments?”

“He’ll be fine, Kay, cut him some slack,” the sergeant intervened, and Lenny threw her a grateful look. “We’ll keep him up to speed.” She nodded her head towards the corridor leading to the cabins.  “Head up to the galley when you’re done. We’ll get some caf, and then get started.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Lenny replied automatically, then winced. “And, uh,” he fidgeted with his pack strap and tried to look confident, and not at all like a lost recruit on his first in-theatre op. “Looking forward to working with you,” he blurted out.

To his relief, she didn’t laugh, merely nodded her head, that little smile hovering around her mouth. “Thanks.”

Lenny escaped the pressure of her eyes and hustled into the cabin closest to the cargo door. Behind him, he thought he heard the droid say “there is no strategic benefit to bringing -” but the sergeant cut him off with a murmur he couldn’t pick up. Lenny slung his pack into the cabin closest to the cargo bay door and took a deep breath. Okay. Freaky Imperial droid, twitchy pilot, scary commander, unknown spy mission against the Empire. It was like something out of an action holo, really. They even had a pretty girl spy, with her leather jacket and bright eyes.

He could do this. He wasn’t any kind of secret agent, but he had a good memory and he knew Portocari’s capital like the back of his hand. And he was willing to learn. He’d show the major that he was an asset worth having. And maybe, if he was lucky, earn a few more smiles from the sergeant.

 

* * *

 

“So sticking _this line_ of code,” Sergeant Erso – Jyn, she’d told him to call her Jyn, but Lenny hadn’t quite worked himself up to it yet – pointed to the screen in front of him, “between those two lines will cause a runtime loop in those kinds of locks.” She leaned back in her seat across from him at the small galley table and sipped at her mug.

Lenny frowned at the screen, carefully running over the lines of code she’d shown him once more. “Right,” he said slowly, “and that works on all Mandelmatrix locks?”

She shrugged. “All the ones currently in field. Unless they start updating their backdoor protocols.”

“A security measure they have not implemented in seven standard years,” the droid spoke up from across the galley where it was doing…something. Lenny was trying not to watch it too hard, in case it made him look nervous. It helped that Sergeant Erso was sitting between him and the droid, her back to the synthetic. The pilot was still up in the cockpit, and the major had only walked into the galley once to grab the cup of caf that the Sergeant had made for him when she brewed up her tea. He had barely looked at Lenny, merely nodding an acknowledgement as he passed.

“So, uh,” Lenny poked at the screen to move the line of code she’d indicated into the proper spot, and smiled a little triumphantly when the little “lock” icon obligingly popped open. “This code looks kind of like that Damorind Securities code you showed me a little while ago.” He nodded to the other datapad sitting on the table top, and Sergeant Erso tilted her head at him, watching him through the steam of her cup. “So does it work on those too?”

“Good eye,” she smiled briefly at him, and Lenny sat up a little straighter and tried to tell the butterflies in his stomach to settle down. “It works on Damorind double-sec locks, but nothing higher than that. Someone at that company is semi-competent.”

“Most likely someone within the ranks uses their own security system, and fixed the flaws for themself,” the droid interjected again.

Lenny laid the datapad flat on the table carefully and looked up at the sergeant. “Will I be breaking a lot of, uh, locks and stuff? On the mission?”

“Unlikely,” the droid replied.

She jerked her head back towards the droid, still looking at Lenny, and hummed in agreement.

“Then why…?”

She arched an eyebrow at him, her smile turning sardonic. “You want to spend the whole trip filling out the questionnaire?”

Lenny winced. When the Major had come in for his caf, he’d left a datachip on the table for Lenny. The datachip was full of several pages of questions and fill-in-the-blank statements about Portocari, the capital, the Imperial base there, and who knew what else. Lenny had skimmed it and wondered what good all this information was going to do the rebellion. He’d just resigned himself to several hours of what was basically homework when the sergeant had plunked down in the chair across from him and asked if he knew how to slice encryption locks.

“No, this is much better,” Lenny told her quickly. “Even if I’m not much use on the mission, at least I’ll have learned something, right?”

“You’ll be useful,” she said, flicking a finger as if to dismiss his concern, and then softening a little when he still looked downcast.

“Of course he will,” Rook said from the entryway, smiling as he stepped in and waved to them both. “I heard there was caf. Cassian didn’t steal it all, did he?”

Erso gestured to the stove top where a metal pot of caf was magnetically latched to the heater. Rook flicked the little switch to unlock the pot and poured himself a mug, peering over Lenny’s shoulder as he did. “You’re teaching him slicing,” he shot a look at Erso, and then laughed softly. “Of course you are.”

“He’s on the team,” Erso said gravely.

“You can tell her to sod off,” Rook told Lenny, trying and failing to look just as serious as Erso.

“I don’t mind, Lieutenant,” Lenny reassured him quickly, hoping he didn’t look too eager.

“Bodhi,” Rook corrected him, grimacing a little. “If you “lieutenant” at me for the next month, I might start forgetting my, my actual name.” His laugh after that was a little odd, his expression suddenly going scattered and distracted, and for some reason, Erso lifted her head to meet his eye steadily for a moment before he dropped his attention back to pouring out his caf. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “Don’t let Jyn bully you into, you know, into entertaining her.”

“She’s not,” Lenny shrugged. “She’s, um, she’s teaching me interesting,” he gestured a little helplessly at the datapad, “things,” he finished lamely.

“It is a preferable activity to her usual pacing,” the droid said. “Or distracting Cassian with - ”

“It’s a valuable skill Tonnor might need on the op,” Erso cut the droid off, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe,” Rook agreed easily, propping his hip against the table top and leaning over Lenny’s shoulder. “Who knows,” he grinned and saluted with his caf, “Maybe you’ll even, even save the day.”

Lenny tentatively returned his smile, because this sounded like the kind of friendly ribbing that grunts did down in the barracks. “Well, I do what I can,” he joked back. “Just your friendly neighborhood Gnithi-Man.” He bit his lip, realizing a moment too late that they might not get that joke (was Gnithi-Man a thing outside of Portocari?), but Rook chuckled and Erso’s smile was wider than before.

“My hero,” she said in a dry but definitely teasing tone. Lenny ordered himself not to flush, though judging by the heat in his cheeks, he didn’t quite manage it.

“Bodhi,” the major called from down the hall. “A moment, please.”

“Probably wants to talk about the next leg of our route,” Rook said, pushing off the table and taking a hurried sip from his mug as he headed for the cabins.

“Here,” Erso took the datapad from Lenny and her small hands flew across it for a few minutes, her head bent and a few strands of glossy hair drifting down across her cheekbones. Lenny had the sudden urge to lean across and tuck those strands behind her ears. Over her shoulder, the KX droid stared at him, optics glowing eerily in the dim lights of the old freighter’s galley. What was it doing in here anyway? Lenny cleared his throat and fixed his attention on the girl instead.

“Something to do when you need a break from the intel files,” she said, sitting up and tossing the datapad back to him. “Break them by the time we get to Portocari.”

Five locked file icons glowed next to the questionnaire the major had given him. When he tapped on the first file, a long stream of code filled the screen, and he picked out at least two of the string codes she had just taught him. “Yeah, okay,” he said absently, and then caught himself. “I mean, yes, Sergeant.”

She rolled her eyes. “Jyn.”

Lenny swallowed. “Jyn,” he said carefully, and embarrassingly, her answering nod of approval sent his cheeks burning all over again. Quickly, he climbed to his feet (which always seemed to grow about twelve sizes every time he was around her, sheesh, he felt like a teenager again, and he’d been so relieved to put those years behind him at his last birthday). “I’ll, uh, get started then.”

She sipped her tea and smiled at him over the rim, a faint, sweet expression that sent him stumbling from the galley and into the corridor towards his cabin. The door to the large cabin down the corridor, farthest from his own, was open, and Lenny heard Rook’s voice coming from inside, talking a little fast and stumbling a few times. Lenny guessed that must be the major’s cabin, then. Maybe that was why poor Bodhi sounded so nervous, standing all alone in front of the major’s cold indifference. Although when Rook paused, Lenny thought he heard a low, soothing voice say something he couldn’t pick out, but it was possible that was a vidcall or a recording or something. Rook answered in a distinctly less jittery tone, but Lenny didn’t try to listen in. It wasn’t really his business, except hopefully the officer would go easy on Rook – the last thing Lenny really wanted to deal with was a nervous pilot at the controls when they made their next hyperspace jump. Only a couple more until they made it to Portocari space.

Lenny grimaced and slid into his own cramped cabin. Better get to work on that questionnaire, then – and more importantly, those locked files. He wondered, his cheeks flaring warm again, what his prize would be if he managed to crack all five files before they arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thranta is a type of [giant space manta ray](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Thranta), which seemed like a cool creature to name a covert team after (well, they can't run around calling themselves "Rogue" when there's a Rogue Squadron out there. A famous one, at that.)
> 
> No, Lenny did not grow up around a lot of droids. They are tolerated, but not well liked or commonly used, on Portocari. He also isn't the brightest bulb in the pack.


	2. every way you look at this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Laugh about it, shout about it_   
>  _When you've got to choose_   
>  _Every way you look at this you lose_

“You’re certain about the scanner,” Major Andor said for the third time, flipping through the datapad and pausing to tap a note of some kind on the document. Every time he did that, Lenny’s guts tightened a little more into a small, anxious ball. It was worse than when his last Languages In Cultures teacher graded his work aloud, in front of the whole class. Somehow, the major managed to look even less impressed with Lenny than Mrs. Starr ever had, and yet at the same time, he was taking Lenny’s work much more seriously. Probably because both his life and Jyn’s was riding on Lenny’s information.

“Yes, sir,” Lenny said again as confidently as his dry mouth would allow. “Customs always scans you twice, but more than that and the queue gets backed up, so they won’t unless you have something you shouldn’t in the first two scans.”

And half the time, the customs agents didn’t pay the slightest attention to whatever they were scanning, he added mentally, but he’d already learned not to make “unfounded analysis” around Major Andor. The officer didn’t do anything except flick an unreadable glance at him, but the droid _always_ chimed in with some kind of admonishing remark. And since the major had programmed it, Lenny could only assume it was just relaying all the things Major Andor was thinking but was too polite or above it all or whatever to say aloud. “Are you certain you’ve given us everything?” Andor asked, looking at Lenny over the top of the datapad with hard eyes. Over his shoulder, the bright lines of hyperspace highlighted the major’s dark hair, the backlighting casting an ominous shadow across his face that made him look intent and unsettling.

Lenny swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Those questions were pretty thorough,” Rook chimed in from the pilot seat directly in front of Lenny, and Andor turned the copilot’s chair sideways to look at him. “And he filled them all out pretty good,” Rook looked a little uncomfortable, but didn’t flinch under the scrutiny.

Jyn leaned up from the seat behind the major and tapped his shoulder. “Stop fussing,” she said quietly.

Lenny held his breath, but the major didn’t snap at her, just bent his head a little further over his datapad and stopped questioning every line Lenny had written. Jyn’s hand lingered on his shoulder a moment longer, probably making sure that he wasn’t about to start picking on the new guy again, and then she leaned back, crossing her legs carelessly and pulling her blaster free. She inspected the barrel the way Lenny’s mother used to inspect her nails when she was bored or antsy, and for several long moments, the cockpit was silent.

Then Rook cleared his throat and reached for the hyperspace throttle. “Entering real space in thirty seconds,” he announced.

The major spun back around until his seat was facing forward, and Jyn tucked her weapon away as quickly as she had drawn it. She met Lenny’s eyes and smiled slightly, looked pointedly down at his hands, then back at his face. Lenny followed her gaze and saw that his fists were clenched so tightly around the arms of the chair that his knuckles were white. He peeled them off hurriedly, and tried to look as calm as the rest of the team. Well, as calm as Jyn and Major Andor, anyway. Lieutenant Rook was noticeably jittery again, his hands steady on the controls but his foot jiggling up and down under the flight console.

“Three, two, one,” he breathed, and then pulled the throttle back. The blue-white glow faded back into stars, and a large yellow and green planet filled the viewscreen. Lenny’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he ground his teeth to stop a sudden quiver in his jaw. When he’d left, he’d been so happy to finally find an Alliance transport that he had barely looked back when he boarded. And he’d been so busy with training and everything – sheesh, he’d barely even _thought_ about home for these last months.

And yet, there it was, big and gold and familiar. Somewhere down there, he thought, his mother was probably still working away at that administration job of hers, filing paperwork until her eyes went blurry. Somewhere down there, his father’s grave-marker hummed gently and lit up the surrounding grass with the soft white lights a man of his station was accorded when he died – unless Mother had let the battery die out again. Lenny wouldn’t really blame her if she had, it wasn’t like Father would have done any better for her. But still, the thought of his father’s marker going dark hurt him more than he expected it would.

“Alright?” Jyn’s voice was gentler than he had heard yet, and Lenny gave her a watery smile as he struggled to compose himself.

“Portocari Control, this is the _Wayward Gamma,_ approaching from Black Three sector, request landing codes, _”_   Rook said into the comms, and Lenny was momentarily distracted from his sudden homesickness by the unexpectedly steady professionalism in his voice.

A bored voice crackled back across the comm. “ _Wayward Gamma_ , Control copies, squawk your code and state your intentions.”

 _This is it,_ Lenny thought. This was the first point where his information would either get them through safely, or get them all shot out of the sky by an Imperial Star Destroyer. He gulped and peered out of the side viewport, to where a great white wedge of Imperial power floated serenely through the inky darkness of space. Once, he mused to himself, there had been a time when that distinct shape had looked like safety to him. Amazing what a few months could change.

“ _Wayward Gamma,_ transmitting codes,” Rook flipped a few switches and nodded to Andor. “We are a commercial vessel, Lima class, HWK-280 light frieghter.”

“Acknowledged,” the controller replied without suspicion or hesitation, and Lenny felt some of the tension in his gut untwist.

“Incoming coordinates,” Andor said as a screen on the flight console suddenly lit up. “Looks like they’re putting us down in the western space port of the city.”

Privately, Lenny was a little impressed that the major could tell that just from glancing at the coordinates. He must have already memorized the grid code that had taken Lenny almost five hours to type out. Mostly, though, Lenny was just glad to hear they were headed to the west side of the city rather than the south, where there was a chance he would see someone he knew. Not much of a chance, he hadn’t exactly had a huge social circle, but still.

“ _Wayward Gamma_ ,” the controller suddenly snapped on the comm. “Confirm you are a commercial vessel?”

“Affirmative,” Rook replied, shooting a look at the major. Lenny felt the tension in his guts squeeze right back into place, and beside him, Jyn set both her boots flat on the floor and then stayed very still.

“ _Gamma,_ your code indicates a survey vessel,” the controller came back. “Confirm you have transmitted on frequency red-red-sierra-orange?”

“Affirmative,” Rook said again, but there was a slight hitch in his voice, and this time when he threw a look over at Andor, the major set his jaw and leaned forward to type something into the flight controls himself. Hyperspace coordinates, Lenny realized, prepping to make an emergency jump in case everything went wrong. Wait, was he working out those calculations in his _head,_ without the computer? Was that even possible?

“Lendan,” Jyn said suddenly, and Lenny ripped his eyes away from Andor’s hands to look instead at her face. The intensity of her eyes made his breath catch. “Are there a lot of surveyors here?”

“Um, I think so,” he floundered, panic making his mind buzz with static and his skin clammy. In the corner of his eye, the white shape of the Star Destroyer seemed to loom even bigger, and was it his imagination or was it turning to point it’s accusing bow right at his heart….?

“Lendan,” Jyn said again, firmly, dragging his attention back to her. “What kind of surveyors?”

“ _Wayward Gamma_ , your code indicates a survey vessel,” the controller said again. “Please confirm your purpose on Portocari.”

“There are mines in the northern plains,” Lenny blurted out. “Uh, silver mines. They’re old, though. I don’t know if they are even still good.”

Andor flipped the comm control from Rook’s station to his own. “Portocari control, _Wayward Gamma_ , apologies for the confusion, we are a survey team working under commission from a private company, investigating the silver mines for potential new veins.”

A faint crackle on the comm. Lenny held his breath.

“ _Wayward Gamma_ , copy that,” the controller came back, sounding bored again. “Recommend you annotate your registration with Landing Admin when you set down, sir, to avoid hangups in the future.”

“Acknowledged,” the major replied, matching his tone to the controller’s almost perfectly. “ _Wayward Gamma_ , turning to landing coordinates.”

“Breathe,” Jyn said, setting her hand on Lenny’s arm. He sucked in a deep breath, and tried hard not to stare at her slim fingers on his sleeve. Her nails were cut almost brutally short, and her knuckles had odd white marks – scars? Wow, she had a _lot_ of scars on her hands. The incongruity of the ugly marks with the rest of her visible smooth skin was a little jarring. Enough to knock him out of his stunned haze, anyway. (And a little disappointing, actually; they didn’t look like the kind of hands that would smooth through a man’s hair or lovingly adjust a tie. Not that…not that he’d been imagining Sergeant Jyn Erso doing anything of the kind. Well, not much. A man could only fill out forms and play with code for so long without taking a minute or two to let his mind wander.)

At any rate, Jyn had already pulled her hand away and stood up from her seat as Rook maneuvered them into the atmosphere of Portocari. She braced herself against the back of Andor’s seat and leaned a little over his shoulder, although what she was looking at, Lenny didn’t know. The major didn’t tell her off, though; he was so focused on the city unfolding below them that he didn’t even seem to register her proximity. He just sat back and watched the space port loom closer in the viewscreen.

The freighter set down smoothly on the landing pad, and before the engines had even spooled all the way down, both the major and the sergeant were out of the cockpit and headed for the cargo bay. Lenny scrambled to follow after them as Rook preoccupied himself with shutting down the ship properly. “Good luck, Lendan,” Rook smiled. “Stay safe out there.”

“Thanks, you too,” Lenny replied a little awkwardly, and ducked through the hatch into the cargo bay.

“Kay, you’re with me,” Major Andor was saying into his comm. He and Jyn were already shrugging on their jackets and concealed weapons harnesses when Lenny made it to the cargo bay, their movements precise and economical. “Private, you shadow Sergeant Erso,” Andor ordered him, snapping a thick synth-leather band around his wrist that Lenny had seen him tucking a datachip into earlier.

“Yes, sir,” Lenny said.

He must have spoken a little too eagerly, because Andor paused in adjusting the synth-leather and looked him over once. Lenny froze, but all the major said was, “Undo your top button. You look too uptight to be natural.” Then he stalked down the corridor towards the cabins, calling back over his shoulder, “A moment, Sergeant.”

Jyn turned to follow him, but she shot Lenny a reassuring thumbs up as she went. The droid came stomping up from wherever it had been during the ingress, and Lenny eyed it nervously, although all it did was stand near the door in silence. Lenny took a few steps to the left to get out of it’s eyeline, but the droid simply turned it’s head, tracking his movements. Lenny scowled – he was way too jazzed up with excitement and uncertainty right now for this nonsense. “ _What?_ ” he snapped. “You have something to say?”

“No,” the droid replied after a beat.

“You seemed to have plenty to say before,” Lenny muttered, shifting his weight and wondering what the major had needed Jyn for, anyway. Last minute orders, probably. Or maybe something classified. Or maybe he just wanted to lecture her about keeping the rookie out of trouble.

“Your behavior indicates that I make you uncomfortable,” the droid said. “Cassian suggested that I therefore do not speak to you.”

“That makes it worse,” Lenny grumbled, folding his arms and trying to stand like he was just a soldier prepped for an op, not like a rebellious teen glowering at the world. He wasn’t entirely sure he was pulling it off, but there was no one to see but the droid. Where _was_ the sergeant? What was so important the major had to drag her off right now?

The droid didn’t react to his visible impatience, of course. It just stood there like a big black statue, it’s chassis whirring gently. “That is probably the point.”

Lenny blinked. “What?”

“Cassian did not think it tactically necessary to bring you,” the droid informed him, and if Lenny didn’t know better, he would swear it sounded smug. “Neither did I.” The droid paused, a faint hum resonating from his chassis for a moment before it added. “But Jyn said that last time we thought that, we were wrong. So we did not argue too hard with Command.”

“Thanks,” Lenny said snidely, not entirely sure what all that was supposed to mean and deciding that it probably wasn’t important anyway. But the way the droid was just looking at him, unblinking, was starting to really get under his skin, so he unfolded his arms and stomped up the corridor toward the cabins, making more noise than strictly necessary as he went. Maybe that would remind the major that they needed to get on with it. Jyn would probably thank him for the chance to escape.

He expected to find the major and the sergeant in the corridor between the rooms, but it was surprisingly empty. Maybe they were in the galley, then, grabbing a last second stim shot or something from the medical kit in there. Lenny made it half way down the corridor when the major’s door slid open and, to his shock, Jyn stepped out, smoothing a strand of her unruly hair back behind her ear (Lenny’s fingers itched again; her hair looked so soft). “Private,” she said solemnly when she saw him.

“Ready to go?” he asked weakly, caught a bit flat-footed by her appearance from the major’s quarters. But then, Major Andor had pulled Bodhi Rook in there to brief him on their hyperspace route earlier. Apparently the major used his cabin as an office, too. That made sense.

Jyn reached Lenny and shoved his shoulder with her own in a rough, friendly way. “Come on, then, Private,” she smirked and pushed past him. “Stick close and try not to cause me any trouble.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” he fell happily into step behind her, though it was a little awkward to shorten his longer step to keep from stomping on the back of her boots. “I’m no trouble at all, promise.”

Behind him, the major’s door opened and closed again, but Lenny didn’t bother to look back. Andor was going to run off with his creepy droid and do some kind of secret mission near the Imperial base, but Lenny was spending the day with Jyn, out in the markets near where he used to go to school. “Supply scouting,” she’d called it, which sounded like a really official term for “shopping trip” to him. Lenny would never admit it, but he was sort of hoping she would ask his opinion on where to look first. He knew all about bulk shopping in this part of town, it had been his mother’s favorite way to stock up the house.

“Would you like to know the odds that you will return unharmed at the rendezvous time?” The droid asked as they walked back through the cargo bay to the ramp.

 _Definitely not,_ Lenny thought fervently, but Jyn just shrugged. “I like a good mystery. See you, Kay,” Jyn slapped the droid’s chestplate with rough affection as she passed. Lenny slipped after her and held his breath until he was clear of those lanky metal arms.

“Okay, Mister Gus Swift,” Jyn said as they stepped out into the sunshine and Lenny took a deep breath of his home atmosphere. He was so happy to look up and see the familiar banners that for a second he forgot who ‘Gus Swift’ was supposed to be. “Which way to the mass market?”

“This way, Miss Terra Jaxx,” Lenny grinned, pleased that he remembered her fake name. Ahead of him, he could see the gold and green towers of the finance district, and the twisting blue pillars that marked out the commercial zones. “Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the most exciting day of Lenny’s life, he admitted to himself as he followed her back up the freighter’s ramp that evening. There had been a small part of him that had hoped for a little more slinking through shadows using code words, or maybe snitching something valuable from the ‘troopers roaming the streets, or, well, something. But mostly he had followed Jyn around as she meandered in a seemingly aimless pattern around the mass market, stopping to talk to various merchants who sold things Lenny couldn’t even recognize half the time, and couldn’t imagine them using the other half. Foodstuffs he could understand, even if he didn’t always recognize them, and stuff like tarps, wire, and boots, sure, they always needed more of those. But why would the rebellion need crates of cheap mechanical toddler toys?

Jyn had seen his befuddled expression when she ordered twenty crates stuffed full of blinking, flashing, chiming children’s toys, and when the transaction was done, she’d leaned close to his ear (he had blamed the heat of the market crowd for the flush in his face) and whispered, “We can use some of the parts for datapads, consoles, and some of the smaller droids. It’s cheap, it’s easy, and it’s untraceable. The Empire doesn’t track toys.”

That was…actually kind of genius.  “I once made a pop rocket for school from a couple of old Johni Jedi toys,” he said slowly, looking up at the spiraling blue pillars overhead. “They used to have little engines in them to make them walk, you know? Did you ever have one of those?”

Jyn turned her head away from him suddenly, and Lenny frowned and tried to see what might have caught her attention, but she turned back to him almost immediately with her face blank and unruffled. He guessed it must not have been important. “No, I never did."

“Well they were banned,” Lenny explained, “I mean, eventually. But instead of throwing mine away, I just made them into a rocket and _pop!_ ” he pointed up at the blue spirals. “Went almost that high, I swear.”

Jyn hummed, glancing up along the path of his finger and then turning her attention back to the crowd. “Clever.”

“So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he continued, pleased at her praise. “About the toys, I mean.” Lenny felt a little glow in his chest as he contemplated the interesting ways the Alliance had found to survive around the draconian fist of the Empire. Of course, the memory of the gentle brush of Jyn’s breath against his ear might have also had something to do with the glow. And the way she’d smiled at him when he told her about that old rocket project. It made him feel like he’d grown another twenty centimeters, taller than the major, maybe even taller than the droid. Oh, and they’d bought some slushed ices – Jyn let him chose the flavors, and he’d picked the best Cari-lemon slush he’d had in ages. She’d seemed to enjoy it, too, and for a few minutes, Lenny had forgotten the war and just walked through the familiar streets of his hometown with his favorite treat and a pretty girl at his side, and he had felt, for the first time in a long time, like he was home.

So no, it wasn’t the most exciting day, but all in all, Lenny felt he could mark it down as a win.

The major was already back when Jyn and Lenny returned – about twenty minutes past rendezvous time, but without incident. Major Andor was sitting with Rook in the galley drinking caf, the droid looming over in the corner, when they finally walked in. “Hey, you made it!” Rook brightened visibly when they came in, and waved at the caf pot. “We saved you some, Lendan! And there’s hot water for your tea,” he added, and Jyn smiled at him as Lenny headed for the stove top to pour a cup.

Major Andor had turned as soon as they had come into the galley, his face oddly tense and his back ramrod straight, but when Lenny turned back around with his mug, the man suddenly looked completely calm, verging on relaxed. Jyn was standing by his chair with her hand on his shoulder, but she moved away quickly and went for the teapot. She was probably warning the major to be nice – Lenny had a feeling Andor wanted to blame their lateness on _him_. But the officer didn’t say anything, simply took a long pull of his caf and then pushed to his feet. “I’ll add your supply report to tonight’s dead drop,” he told Jyn as he headed for the cabins. To Lenny’s relief, the droid followed him.

“I’ll have it to you in a couple hours,” Jyn said nonchalantly.

The major nodded. “A simple list of the acquisitions will do. No need for greater detail.”

“But you love attention to detail,” Jyn smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m so good at it.”

The major snorted, but there was the shadow of a smile around his mouth. Lenny guessed that this was some old joke between them. The major might be a bit of a cold fish, but it was clear that he and Jyn had worked together for awhile. Lenny wondered how she had learned to tolerate his attitude, when hers was so different. So much friendlier, and warmer. Definitely warmer. Her hands had practically burned his skin even through her gloves and his sleeve. (Lenny hated to admit it, but he preferred when she wore the gloves. The scars were just…really weird. So out of synch with the delicacy of the rest of her. She had such nice hands, other than the scars.)

“If you’re done,” Rook said with an exaggerated eye roll at Jyn, then smiled up at Lenny, who was still standing a little awkwardly by the stove top trying not to think anymore about Jyn’s delicate build. “So, have a good time on your first, uh, first Intelligence op?”

“Yeah,” Lenny shrugged and ducked his head a little as he grinned, glancing sideways at where Jyn was now dunking a tea bag into her mug. “I really did.”

 

* * *

 

“You need to tell Kay to leave him alone,” Jyn’s voice echoed a little oddly in the corridor, and Lenny paused, blinking the sleep from his eyes and sagging tiredly against the bulkhead. The red lights of night-shift weren’t very bright, only just enough that he could dimly see where he was going as he groped his way to the ‘fresher, and they turned everything an eerie, unreal shade of crimson.

“I did,” the major replied, or at least, Lenny thought that was what he said. The officer’s voice was oddly muffled. Then again, Lenny was still half asleep, and trying hard to stay that way so it would be easier to drop back off once he’d emptied his bladder and shuffled back to bed.

“You know what I mean,” Jyn sounded half exasperated, half fond. She really must have worked with Andor for a long time. Or else she was just nicer than Lenny. More charitable.

“I am not going to tell him to twist himself up trying to make friends,” the major sounded a little sharper now, and Lenny groggily reminded himself that he probably shouldn’t stand around listening to his commander talk to his sergeant. He shuffled as quietly as he could down the hallway toward the ‘fresher, and slid the door shut gently, cutting of the major just as he started to say something like, “The private will just have to learn to - ”

There were a lot of things Lenny would have to learn, he knew that. But he was doing okay so far. Right? Slicing. New names. Shadowing Jyn. Yeah, he was a great shadow. Happy shadow. Scary mission. But he was good. He was doing okay. The major would see. Lenny would impress him.

Jyn and the major were still talking when he tiptoed back out, although it was harder to pick out the words. Guess they were getting tired too. Lenny wondered if they were in the galley at this time of night. Maybe they wanted more caf, or they were just working on their report back to base.  

“Well, it’s too late to send him back,” Jyn was saying as Lenny reached his own door and opened it as quietly as possible. “And anyway, I like him, so you’re just going to have to deal.” It sounded like she was smiling when she said it, too, and despite the pleasant fog of half-sleep still clouding his mind, Lenny felt a little giddy rush at her words.

“As you like,” the major sighed, and Lenny latched his door closed, blocking out any further eavesdropping. He stumbled happily back into his rack and pulled the thin blanket up to his chin, still grinning a bit into the dark. She liked him! Maybe tomorrow he could show her that he’d cracked all five locked files (alright, a bit late, but still, he was a total novice and he’d cracked all of them on his own!).

As he slipped slowly from dozing into real sleep, it occurred to Lenny that Jyn’s voice had sounded clearer when he’s neared his cabin, despite the fact that the galley was on the opposite end of the corridor. Perhaps she’d been in her cabin then, which was….wait, which one was she sleeping in? If Rook had the middle cabin with the viewport… and the major had the one by the engine…and _Lenny_ was in the one by the door….hmmm….he could maybe…ask her….tomorr…

 

* * *

 

“Stay down,” Jyn snapped over his head, her hand gripping the back of his neck like he was a wiggling puppy. Lenny pressed his cheek to the cold paved ground and didn’t protest, although why she thought he was going to get up when there were blaster bolts flying over his head, he had no idea.

His second spy operation on Portocari, Lenny was sad to say, was not nearly as much fun as the first.

He wished he could properly explain how it had come to this: Sergeant Erso pinning him behind some big metal trash bins while a squad of stormtroopers tried to fill them full of burn holes, his comm crackling with static because they were being jammed or something? In all honesty, Lenny had been a little distracted while he and Jyn picked their way through a different market from yesterday, closer to the base of one of the big blue pillars of commerce. Lenny had been…enjoying the weather, breathing in the familiar smells, and, okay, maybe imagining the look on his old school friends’ faces if they could see him now, out here being a rebel spy. And maybe, alright, maybe he had been imagining, too, what Jyn might do if he casually reached out and brushed that strand of hair that kept swinging down by her cheek back behind her ear. How she might look at him if he told her she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. What she might feel like if he –

Something big sizzled through the air over his head, and Jyn’s full weight bore down on the middle of Lenny’s back as she dropped on top of him to avoid whatever had just flown by. She was, surprisingly, not nearly as light as she looked. A moment later, something behind Lenny exploded – really exploded! Light and fire and heat nipping at his heels and washing up over his legs! – and oh, Force, it was so _loud!_ Lenny’s ears were ringing so hard that his sinuses ached, so he felt justified that it took him several seconds to realize that Jyn wasn’t just holding tight to his chest but she was actually trying to pry him up from the ground and drag him away. He stumbled up, coughing and swiping ineffectually at his clogged eyes, and he pounded clumsily through the shrieking crowds of the market behind Jyn, her hand firmly around his wrist as she towed him at top speed. The ringing in his ears gradually gave way to the discordant yells of the crowd, the whine of more blaster bolts behind him, and in one ear, the loud crack of static in the comm. Except the static wasn’t as formless as before – as Jyn turned and grabbed his shirt, hauling him sideways into a different alley, Lenny picked out a sort of pattern in the fuzz. A voice, he thought dimly, someone shouting a word over and over.

“This is Thranta Bravo to Thranta Alpha,” Jyn shoved Lenny roughly down behind a pile of discarded engine parts and hunkered down beside him, one hand on her truncheon and the other flying up to her ear to press against her comm. “Thranta Alpha, this is Bravo, transmitting in the blind. Our transponder is on, request backup.” She paused, gave Lenny a quick once over, and then started to speak into her comm again, in a low, urgent voice. “Thranta Alpha, Bravo, soft down, we are transmitting in the blind. If you can hear me,” her voice turned just a touch desperate, “our transponder is on. Please hurry.”

“Soft down,” Lenny repeated, and blinked a little as he heard his own voice, high and reedy and a little slurred.

“It means minor injuries,” she told him shortly, peering over the top of the engine pile. “Stay quiet, Private.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” he mumbled, and rubbed at his head, which still rang like a bell and ached like he’d been on a bar bender. Minor injuries, huh? Lenny blinked at the faint tinge of red on his fingers when he pulled his hand away from his hairline. Was he bleeding from the head? Oh, sheesh, maybe that was why he was so clumsy and scared. Was this what she called ‘minor’? Head wounds were serious business! He might have a concussion – not that he could recall hitting his head, but that could just be a sign of real damage – he needed to get back to the ship and get medical attention!

But Jyn stayed still as a carved statue, and Lenny wasn’t stupid enough to try going anywhere without her. Not when ‘troopers were shooting at him, definitely. Okay, okay, calm down. Whatever had gone wrong, he was really in the thick of it now. Nothing to do but try to get out, right? Just…just hang in there. Stay calm. Follow Jyn. Sergeant Erso. She seemed to have an idea of what to do, anyway.

What was that dark stuff pooling under Jyn’s boots? Was that…was that blood?

“Thranta Alpha,” Jyn whispered hoarsely into the comm, her eyes steady on the far end of the alley they were hiding in. Through the fading ringing in his ears, Lenny could hear the march of heavy boots marching over paved market roads, coming closer. “Thranta Alpha, please respond.”

The comm crackled again, the ghost of a voice shouting desperately through the fog. Definitely one word, but Lenny couldn’t for the life of him pick it out, and if Jyn could, she didn’t show it. Her eyes stayed trained on the alley end, her body so still he wasn’t sure she was even breathing.

Boots, boots, marching over market roads, and then the first stormtrooper turned the corner, a full squad of five other ‘troopers close behind. Lenny’s heart dropped into his stomach with a thud.  “Check it out,” the mechanical voice buzzed, gesturing down the alley way towards their pile of rubbish. The five subordinate ‘troopers moved into the alleyway, one step, two steps, closer, closer – Lenny stared up at the sky overhead, at the golden shine of the setting sun on the beautiful skyscrapers of downtown, the obscenely cheerful blue of the pillars of commerce. All of it, towering over him, reaching up into the skies he’d been born under, the skies he was going to die under.

He wouldn’t get to check his father’s marker, to make sure the lights were still on.

A white boot appeared in the corner of his vision.

Lenny’s heart skipped.

Jyn exploded upwards.

She moved so fast, Lenny couldn’t be entirely sure what happened, afterwards. One second she was there beside him, crouched down and still as stone, the next, she was over the rubbish heap and there was a series of shouts, the white leg of the ‘trooper about to come ‘round the heap jerked back out of sight, and then three blaster shots. Something heavy fell on the other side, and then a white body went sailing past Lenny, smacking into the alley wall with a weird cracking sound before the ‘trooper crumpled to the ground in a twisted, unnatural pose. Another mechanical shout, a crack, and Lenny’s muscles finally unfroze enough that he could force himself up a little to peer over the rubbish. Three ‘troopers lay in heaps at Jyn’s feet, the fourth was against the wall near Lenny, and as he watched, Jyn spun like a dancer and cracked her truncheon so hard against the fifth ‘trooper’s helmet that it twisted nearly backwards. The ‘trooper went down like a sack of rations, but Lenny’s terror-slowed brain saw the final ‘trooper, the leader, advancing forward, his blaster raised, the barrel already glowing with the energy of a deadly shot aimed right for Jyn’s back.

Lenny gave an incoherent shout and fumbled for the little blaster Jyn had tucked into this jacket before, but he already knew it was too late, even if he could make that shot he would never get it clear in time and Jyn –

The ‘trooper flew away.

Wait, what?

Lenny blinked hard and shook his head, but no, he wasn’t hallucinating, the ‘trooper had literally just gone flying across the alley and crashed head-first into the opposite wall from Lenny, his blaster skittering unfired across the pavement. Where the ‘trooper had been standing, a tall, black silhouette now loomed, arms outstretched, optics glowing.

“If you require a refresher course on the definition of subtlety,” Andor’s droid said into the sudden silence, “I will be happy to provide one.”

“Nice throw,” Jyn said casually, as if she had just run into an old friend in the market and was making small talk. Lenny looked down at the ‘troopers around her feet. _Wow,_ he thought. _You would never know, to look at her._

“Thirteen point two meters,” the droid stalked into the alley towards her. “A new record.”

There was an expectant pause as they both turned to peer at the ‘trooper Jyn had thrown earlier, as if they were measuring the distance, and then Jyn rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fine. You’re in the lead. For now.”

Lenny pushed himself to his feet. Shouldn’t they be…running? Or something? But the droid was simply standing next to Jyn, who leaned against his arm looking calm and unconcerned, although now that Lenny was looking at her properly, she was holding her arm around her middle a little awkwardly and her face looked pale under the grime. Was something…?

The droid turned his head to look directly at Lenny, who froze like a womp rat in the headlight. The droid’s eyes flashed blue for a moment – what was that all about? – and then yellow again. “You appear to have sustained several bruises and a scrape across your scalp, Thranta Echo.”

“Some shrapnel flew out and caught him,” Jyn murmured, and Lenny shuffled his feet a little, embarrassed at his mental hysterics earlier, but also still a little worried that there might be damage he didn’t know about. Head injuries were supposed to be tricky like that. The movement brought him accidentally a little closer to the droid, and Lenny swallowed and made himself tilt back his head and look up. The darn thing _had_ just saved his life, after all.

“Um, thanks,” he said hesitantly.

The droid considered him silently for a long minute. Abruptly, Jyn’s head snapped to the entrance of the alley, but it was only the major, showing up at last, breathing hard as if he’d been running fast through the market. He must have told the droid to come on ahead, Lenny thought, turning to look back up at the tall synthetic. K – 2 – S – O, Lenny thought carefully, sounding it out in his head. Jyn seemed to trust it, anyway, leaning as she was against it’s side. Although as soon as the major showed up, she pushed herself up and walked stiffly towards him, probably to make a quick report about what had happened, leaving Lenny to look up at those glowing eyes.

“You are a member of this team, however temporary,” the droid said, and then it turned and walked after Jyn. Lenny glanced back at the crumpled ‘troopers on the paved streets of his town, and nodded to himself. If ever he needed a visual to prove to him that there really was no going back…

Well.

Time to go.

Surprisingly, Jyn had looped her arm around the major, and she stayed that way the whole way back to the ship, which took longer than Lenny expected because they had to take some roundabout route that Andor had apparently mapped out yesterday, just in case. The major barely spoke the whole way, just snapped something tight and professional to Rook on the comms (apparently the ‘trooper leader had been carrying the comm jammer, which must have broken when the droid launched him against a wall). Major Andor’s head seemed to be on a swivel as they moved, on the lookout for danger. Lenny expected him to scout ahead, maybe passing Jyn off to the droid (or, well, Lenny wasn’t sure he could manage both of them, but he would have tried). To his surprise, the major stayed with them, and kept an arm tight around Jyn’s back as she clung with white fingers to his belt. Lenny didn’t really see any more blood than what he had picked up before – she must have used a bacta patch or something, or maybe it wasn’t as bad as it probably felt for her. He worried every time she stumbled or took a shaky breath, but neither she nor the major looked more than mildly stressed about it, so Lenny kept his mouth shut and focused on keeping up. The droid stalked behind them anyway, blocking Lenny’s view of even their backs, so it wasn’t like he was in any position to really see what was up.

They made it to the ship shortly after dark had fallen, and Rook met them at the ramp, a medkit in his hand and a frazzled look on his face. “Run a sweep,” the major ordered him as soon as they were inside the ship. Rook nodded, tossed the medkit into the major’s hands, and hustled towards the cockpit with a backward glance at Jyn. She waved at him tiredly with her free hand, then wrapped it back around her middle. “Kay, check the holo, see if any of our faces were caught on vid, and what the newscasts are saying about this.”

“I have already begun sweeping the five thousand, two hundred and fifteen channels in this region of the planet,” the droid replied calmly. “I will be in charging station two if you require my assistance.”

The major nodded, and started to lead Jyn back towards the cabins and saying something to her under his breath that Lenny couldn’t hear, bending his head to speak directly into her ear.  Lenny stood awkwardly in the cargo bay for a few minutes, wondering what he should do, until the droid poked it’s great black head back through the door and said, “There is a secondary medical kit in the cockpit. Bodhi will likely assist you in running another scan if that would make you feel comfortable. I have already sent my primary scan to the console.”

“When did you scan me?” Lenny asked, but the droid had already vanished back into…wherever he went to charge.

Lenny looked toward the cabins, but honestly, he was probably better off just cleaning up his own wounds and letting the major handle Jyn. As much as he would really like to be the one helping her, lending a shoulder for her to lean on and maybe wiping away any tears of pain…

His scalp stung.

Yeah, okay, daydream later.

With a sigh, Lenny trudged into the cockpit, where Rook greeted him with a distracted smile and made sympathetic noises when Lenny dabbed cleanser on the cut on his scalp. “Still having fun?” the pilot joked as he kindly took the disinfectant from Lenny’s shaky hands and cleaned off the scratch on his chin, too.

“Not…not really,” Lenny swallowed. “But, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders and tried to look unaffected. “It happens, I guess. We’re all alive, right? That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rook said, suddenly grave. “We are. And that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian is Thranta Alpha. Jyn is Thranta Bravo. Bodhi is Thranta Charlie. Kay is Thranta Delta. Lenny is Thranta Echo. 
> 
> If you're curious, Lenny is also 20 years old.


	3. and here's to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes_   
>  _Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home_   
>  _And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson_

Apparently the newsfeeds hadn’t gotten any kind of visual on the rebel team, and within a couple days the “terrorist attack” in the market had been shoved out of the news cycle by some major celebrity sex scandal that might have once interested Lenny, but these days felt as distant as the sun. All the same, the major made them lie low in the ship for three whole days before they resumed ops, and it was not Lenny’s favorite time. The ship, large enough for two crewmen and six passengers according to it’s specs, seemed to shrink around the four of them (plus the big droid, who spent a lot of time in the galley, for some reason).

Lenny mostly kept to himself, doing what limited exercise he could in the cargo bay, and playing a few different card games with Rook – or rather, with _Bodhi,_ who insisted on being called by his first name and eventually refused to answer unless Lenny used it and not his rank or last name. Bodhi turned out to be a bit of a card shark, but he at least had full conversations with Lenny. Major Andor barely spoke to him at all, and mostly vanished into the bowels of the ship or something; Lenny wasn’t entirely sure where he was and didn't feel inclined to go looking. Lenny _was_ inclined to be charitable towards him, since apparently he’d given up his bigger, more comfortable cabin to Jyn. She slept for almost two days solid, which made Lenny retroactively worry. She must have been worse off than he realized. But everyone carried on as if nothing was wrong. Major Andor even came out of his cabin the second morning (Lenny guessed he must have been checking in with the sergeant, which was kind of nice in a distant commander-who-cares-about-his-people way) and he handed Lenny a datapad with five new files for him to unlock. He didn’t say anything, but Lenny knew it was a gift from Jyn, something to keep him occupied while he waited for the mission to start up again.

It was touching, really, that she was in there, thinking of him.

These puzzles were a lot harder, and they kept him busy between card games and doing pushups in the cargo bay…although, okay, he was a big enough man to admit it, he maybe did his pushups and lifts out in the cargo bay because it was right in front of the cabin corridor. And he miiiiiiiight have glanced from time to time at the corridor in the secret hope that Jyn would come drifting out and “accidentally” catch an eyeful of Lenny’s reasonably muscled torso. He wasn’t the biggest guy in the rebellion, but hey, he kept in good condition. And any girl who fought the way Jyn did (and wow, could she ever fight. Maybe she could teach him whatever move had sent that ‘trooper flying) would probably appreciate a guy who kept in shape, right?

It passed the time, anyway.

To his eternal disappointment, when Jyn did finally reappear, she looked as composed and ready to work as the first time he saw her. And he wasn't flexing in the cargo bay, he was hunched over the table with half a sandwich stuffed into his cheek, having just taken a huge bite of his midmeal. Lenny choked a little as Jyn walked coolly into the galley and poured herself a cup of tea with a small nod to him and a smile to Bodhi, who all but cheered. “Finally done with your, with your beauty sleep?” Bodhi teased, reaching out to tug on her sleeve. “I thought Cassian was going to keep you locked up another day.”

Lenny coughed as he tried to choke down the enormous amount of food in his mouth, and let the sound cover his confusion. Locked up? Was the major mad at Jyn? He really wished he’d been paying more attention in the market when the whole thing went wrong.

“He’ll get over it,” Jyn shrugged, then raised an amused eyebrow at Lenny’s bulging cheek and red face. “Feeling better?”

If anything, Lenny’s face got redder at her attention, but he managed at least to hum an affirmative. His scalp had healed over within a couple hours after Bodhi had smeared some bacta gel on it. He couldn't even find the cut in his hair now. The bruises on his back were a little more stubborn, but fading green and yellow already. Except for a little stiffness when he woke up, he was healthy as a mynock. He should probably ask her how she was feeling, too, he thought as he watched her tuck her hair back behind her ear and smile softly at Bodhi, who was chattering to her about...something or other. But the sandwich was thick and his mouth was suddenly very dry, so he settled for chewing furiously and trying to think of something interesting to say to her. 

“Good, because we’re getting back on track as soon as I can convince _him_ that I’m fine.” Jyn jerked her head toward the cargo bay when she said “him,” and since the only other “him” in the ship not present was the major, Lenny figured that was who she meant.

“So we’ll be sitting here for the foreseeable future, then,” Bodhi said dryly, and Jyn dipped her fingertips into her tea and flicked a few drops at his face without missing a beat. Bodhi laughed and batted a hand at her, swiping at his face.

“Glad you’re recovered,” Jyn said to Lenny, and stalked out of the galley.

Lenny nearly gagged getting the last of the sandwich bite down, but it was worth it to be able to croak out “you too,” just before she vanished into the corridor, because Jyn glanced back over her shoulder and shot him a small smile that sent a tingle all the way from his head to his toes.

“I give it three hours,” Bodhi said meditatively, twisting his caf mug on the table top between his hands. “Until she talks Cassian into picking back up on the mission,” he clarified when Lenny turned to look at him. “He won’t like it, but he’s just as antsy as the rest of us, and sooner or later, Jyn will throw out her ace card and then he’ll fold like laundry.”

Lenny paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. He wasn’t really sure he followed the metaphor – his slight stutter aside, Bodhi sometimes spoke in riddles and references that Lenny was starting to suspect were mostly in-jokes with the rest of Thranta team. At least, Jyn and the major never seemed to look confused when he talked. “Her….ace card?” He wrinkled his brow in thought. “What’s that mean?”

Bodhi titled the mug back and drained it in one long pull, then stood up and stretched. He hung the now empty mug on the magnetic dish rack and headed back toward the cockpit. “She’ll say please.”

 

* * *

 

 

It actually took Jyn about four hours to convince the major they should start working again. At least, that was Lenny’s rough guess, because four hours later, he ran into the major walking out of his cabin, buttoning up his shirt absently and looking significantly less grim than he had the last three days. Lenny supposed Major Andor was just glad to have his cabin back, and to be doing something meaningful for the rebellion again. “Private,” the major nodded to him, and gestured for Lenny to precede him down the corridor towards the cargo bay, where Bodhi and the droid were already waiting. Lenny looked around for Jyn as he entered the cargo bay, but she was nowhere in sight. Had the major already sent her out? Alone? Lenny stared incredulously at where his commanding officer was now casually chatting with Bodhi, something about fuel and burn rates, because whatever happened to ‘concerned commander who cares about his people’?

But no, wait, there she was, walking in from the direction of the cabins. Benny frowned, because he hadn’t seen her in the corridor and now that he thought about it, he still didn’t actually know where she was sleeping. She had a small duffel in one hand that she tossed to Bodhi without comment, so Lenny cautiously guessed that she must have been in the pilot’s cabin, getting whatever was in the bag for him. Maybe. Where did she sleep, anyway, when she wasn’t hogging up the major’s bed recovering from her injuries?

Well, he could ask later. The major cleared his throat and looked around, and Lenny felt that tension in his belly tighten again. “We’re moving into phase three,” he told them briskly, and Lenny nodded like he knew what that meant, largely because he didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t (aside from K2SO, who just stood there watching them all with those judgmental yellow eyes).

To his relief, the major elaborated without having to be asked. “Sergeant Erso and I are going through the maintenance access,” he said, giving Lenny an unreadable look as he spoke. Lenny tried not to squirm, because that look gave him the distinct feeling that the major was well aware of his ignorance and was being mercifully nice about it. As nice as Major Andor got, anyway. “Kay will patrol on the east side and guard backup route one-aurek, two-aurek, and two-besh. You, Private, will be stationed as lookout and comm relay at the coordinates I will input to your comm before we leave. Sergeant Erso has updated your transmitter to act as a booster for the rest of ours, in the event that another ‘trooper has a jammer like in the market.” His voice cut off tightly for a moment, his eyes distant and unfocused as if he were looking into some bleak memory. Lenny hunched a little away, uncertain what could possibly make the major look that…that dark, until Jyn stepped closer to him and nudged him with her elbow. Andor blinked and looked down at her, the grim lines still lingering around his eyes and mouth for a long moment, and then he relaxed and turned back to the rest of them. Jyn, Lenny noticed, stayed right where she was, brushing just slightly against Andor’s arm with her own.

Well, officers who made it to Major rank in Intelligence probably had seen some bad stuff. Lenny had seen some of the older soldiers around him go dark and distant like that sometimes, when they were remembering a bad battle or someone they had lost in the war. Maybe bad comms was a thing with Major Andor, brought back an unhappy memory or something. It was really nice of Jyn to push him back out of it, actually. Lenny smiled at her, but her focus was on the major’s face as he started talking again, and she didn’t see.

“Bodhi, you’re holding down the fort, but keep the engines running and have two basic hyperspace jumps programmed in. Inform Portocari Space Control that we are planning our departure for third moonrise, but - ”

“But be ready to blast out of here at any second, got it.” Bodhi nodded.

“Will Private Second Class Tonnor need any special assistance?” K2SO asked from the doorway.

Lenny glowered, opening his mouth to defend himself because hey, he could stand in a corner and keep a lookout without a droid babysitter, thanks. But the major spoke first, shaking his head. “Thank you, but just make sure he gets back to the ship in one piece, Kay.”

“Alright,” Jyn said, propping her fists on her hips (without moving away from the major, which meant her arm was pressed pretty hard against his side. Lenny wondered a little wistfully how long they had been working together that they could feel so comfortable with each other; it must be nice to have a partner like that). “Let’s get it done.”

 

* * *

 

The thing about spy work, Lenny decided roughly three hours later after he had paced as far as he dared from his post and back again, was that no one ever mentioned how _boring_ it could be. Not that he was wishing for more excitement like the market fiasco the other day, but honestly, all he was doing was standing around in one empty street corner in the dark, pretending to be playing on his hand-held comm when the rare gravcar buzzed by, mostly just watching bits of litter swirl around in the gutters in the light nighttime breeze. In his ear, he could hear the occasional commentary from Major Andor or Jyn, mostly short, terse statements or questions that he couldn’t even understand without any context. Sheesh, half the time they didn’t even speak in full sentences, just little fragments like “do you have the – ah, thanks,” or “think we can - ?” or “got it.” It was like listening to a third of a conversation, his mind kept trying to fill in the blanks but he had no idea what they were doing, or even where they were. Had they made it into the Imperial base? Did they find…whatever classified thing they were looking for in there? Lenny knew better than to clog up the comms with questions, and anyway, he wasn’t cleared to know all the details of the mission. But just listening to two people not even really conversing, just giving little verbal cues and whispers from time to time – well, it was maddening.

It especially didn’t help that Jyn apparently got into a brief fight with someone who made muffled noises of protest while she panted into the comm. Which of course meant that she panted directly into his ear. With nothing to do or look at while he listened, Lenny had to struggle to keep his mind from going somewhere not strictly professional. Eventually the attacker fell silent and Jyn hummed an affirmative to the major’s whisper of her name. Lenny entertained himself with a few vague fantasies about the major and Jyn getting into another fight that got them trapped somewhere, maybe in an elevator shaft, and the major was hurt and unconscious and Jyn called Lenny’s name for help, and he broke through, yeah, broke through a sewer grate and snuck under the walls of the Imperial fortress and found the air shaft that went right to the bottom of the elevator, and oh no, the elevator was coming down on both of them but Lenny smashed the grate on the air shaft off at the last minute with a powerful kick, and Jyn was sitting on the ground with the major’s head in her lap and Lenny grabbed the officer and threw him over his shoulders while Jyn staggered up and followed him out, thanking him breathlessly as he lead the way to safety and then maybe –

“Thranta Delta, we are clear and headed to rendezvous,” the major’s voice cut harshly through Lenny’s daydream. “Roll to phase four, repeat, roll to phase four.”

“Acknowledged, will comply,” K2SO replied, and Lenny imagined for a minute he could hear the distant clank of a large security droid stomping through the empty streets towards him. He scowled but stayed in place, waiting as instructed for the droid to reach him so they could head back to the ship together.

“Thranta Charlie, prep for egress in thirty,” the major ordered next.

“Acknowledged, wilco,” Bodhi answered.

“Thranta Echo, status,” Jyn’s voice was just as clipped and professional as Major Andor’s but Lenny smiled at the unnecessary but sweet check in anyway.

“Standing by,” he replied. “Ready to get out of here.”

 She didn’t speak, but the comm clicked twice, something Lenny knew that the pilots on Cardooine liked to do as a truncated acknowledgement, a kind of audial thumbs up. Lenny was still grinning like a bit of an idiot when the droid arrived, and he still felt good enough not to resent the sensation that K2SO was escorting him back to the ship.

They were the first back, and Bodhi called a greeting from the cockpit as Lenny shucked off the overlarge poncho he’d been wearing to hide his flak vest and blaster harness. No one bothered a guy in a poncho late at night, so he hadn’t been too worried about being caught with it. Still, it was a relief to strip the poncho off and hang the blaster back on the weapons rack in the cargo bay. He even waved a little at K2SO as the droid made its way up to the cockpit. Apparently it planned to fly with Bodhi. Well, that was fine. Lenny debated going to the galley and making some caf, but what if something went down while he was there? Maybe better to hang out by the door – and the blaster – just in case. (Although a small voice in his head groaned against even _more_ waiting.)

Fortunately, less than five minutes later, the major commed that they were right outside the launch pad, and instructed Bodhi to call for launch codes from Control. By the time Major Andor and Jyn were both inside the ship, the engines were already whining into liftoff and the ship jolted off the ground as Jyn slapped the exterior doors closed. Lenny swept her with an anxious look as the major shucked off his heavy coat and headed for the cockpit. But she looked fine, pulling off her heavy leather jacket and brushing it carefully clean of any dust before hanging it up by the major’s coat. She looked a little flushed - with triumph, maybe - and when she turned and looked at him, she smiled brighter than she had yet on the whole trip.

The ship shuddered as it jumped to hyperspace, and she staggered slightly to compensate, which coincidentally brought her a little closer to him. Lenny held out a hand automatically to catch her, though really he only ended up brushing his hand against her elbow before she righted herself without him. Still, the brief contact sent a little thrill chasing up his arm and towards his heart.

“Good work out there, Lendan,” she said quietly, that wisp of soft brown hair falling down her cheek and brushing along her jawline as she smiled, looking so pretty it was unbearable.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Lenny stepped forward and kissed her.

Her hands flew up to grip his shirt front, and for one second, Lenny felt a rush of excitement flooding all through him, because he had done it, he had helped the spies and gotten the girl and lived to tell the –

She shoved him _, hard_.

Lenny staggered back, arms windmilling as he struggling for balance.  He just barely managed to catch himself, blinking in surprise, his mouth hanging open, staring across the suddenly wide gap between himself and Jyn. Jyn, who was staring at him with wide, intense eyes, her jaw set, her stance wary.  A little jolt of fear twisted his stomach up as his eyes fell on the slim blade that had appeared from nowhere in her hand. She looked, all of the sudden, like an entirely different person, someone hard and unfriendly and very, very dangerous. Her eyes were still bright green and her hands looked small and delicate, but now she looked like someone who had thick scar tissue across her knuckles, someone who could fling an armored man twice her size several meters across an alley even while she was injured.

“Private Tonnor,” Major Andor said from behind him in a voice that could freeze lava. Lenny jumped and spun around, although some instinct kept him from turning his back entirely on Jy- on Sergeant Erso. The major was looking at him with a hard, blank look that made his insides shrivel up and his heart start to pound with fear, and he found himself hunching his shoulders as if he were trying to make himself fold up and disappear. The major probably thought he’d just tried to fraternize or something – something that Lenny knew happened all the time in the Alliance but the major was definitely one of those uptight types who would protest about it anyway. Lenny was so going to get court martialed, or thrown in the brig or something. Did the Alliance do court martials? Did they even have a brig? Or would they just send him to the front lines somewhere? This was terrible.

And then it got worse.

“Would you like to tell me, Private,” the major said in a deadly calm voice, “why you were assaulting my wife?”

Oh.

Shit.

Over the major’s shoulder, Lieutenant Rook was watching him with the first unfriendly expression Lenny had ever seen on his face. From somewhere behind him, he heard the heavy clanking of the droid, who was, apparently still up on the comm and now returning to the cargo bay, possibly to execute Lenny at the major’s command.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice, a little disgusted at how pathetic he sounded but also well aware that oh, boy, he was _so very hosed_ right now, so it hardly mattered. “I, uh, I thought – I just – it was a mistake, sir. Sergeant.” He turned to look over at her again, and she was still pretty but she definitely did not look warm or friendly any more. “You just, um, seemed to – you were so nice, and…”

“Nice,” Major Andor said slowly, and Lenny snapped his mouth shut and wished he had never, ever spoken, once, ever, in his life. “Is that your metric for knowing when someone is interested in you? They are… _nice?_ ” His face seemed to shift into a pleasant, business-like smile, his voice was even, almost relaxed, but the hairs on the back of Lenny’s neck were standing straight up, and it didn’t even have anything to do with the Imperial security droid that was probably standing right behind him, ready to hurl him through the airlock and into space. There was death in that genial smile, and the part of Lenny’s brain devoted to animal survival _knew_ it. He forced himself to breathe and tried hard not to flinch. “I wonder,” the major continued mercilessly, pacing slowly forward like a lothal tiger stalking prey. Lenny flinched, despite himself. “Do you find it inexplicable, Private, that every barista, shopkeep, and help center assistant in the galaxy always seems to fall instantly in love with you?”

His face flushed, and part of him wanted to protest, wanted to defend himself, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t go over so good with the major. And, well, the tough truth was that he had read all the signs wrong and he was probably going to have to take some lumps about it.

He just hoped they were the kind of lumps a guy could survive.

“As your commanding officer,” Major Andor still sounded eerily pleasant, as if he were merely having a nice chat with a young subordinate, but when he stepped closer again, he slid a little to the side, making it harder for Lenny to track him without spinning around and putting his back entirely to Sergeant Erso. He didn’t dare look over at her, but he figured that knife was probably still out. “I must advise you that it is generally a bad idea to walk around the Alliance grabbing people,” the major was so close now that Lenny could almost feel his breath, and suddenly those eight centimeters he had on Lenny seemed much more significant than the ten or so kilos Lenny had over him. The fact that he couldn’t see the major’s hands also really, really unnerved him, but there was nothing to do and nowhere to turn where he wouldn’t see a sharp knife, a killer droid, or a really, really scary officer smiling at him. “We tend, Private Tonnor, to be the kind of people who grab back.”

The major didn’t move, his voice didn’t change, but Lenny’s tolerance snapped and he shied away, stumbling as he tried to back away anywhere other than towards Sergeant Erso.

“Okay,” Lieutenant Rook said loudly, and he walked firmly between Lenny and the other two, reaching out a hand. The pilot's fingers closed almost painfully tight around Lenny’s shoulder, and he realized, very belatedly, that Lieutenant Rook had an artificial hand. The heavy metal limb was clamped around him now, pulling him towards the galley with only a semblance of gentleness. “Okay, it’s over now. I think we all need a little break. We’re ten hours out from Chrellis Base. We were planning on dropping Private Tonnor off with a shuttle back to Cardooine there, anyway. So how about, how about we all just…go back to our cabins, okay?”

He turned to stare at Sergeant Erso, who Lenny saw with enormous relief had put away the knife and was standing with her arms folded. She looked as remote and unapproachable as Major Andor ever had. Major Andor, by contrast, now looked like a calm, reasonable middle-level officer, someone Lenny would maybe have reported to for trash or guard duty in the Command center and not thought twice about it.

Well, at least neither of them looked like they were going to actively slice him open or toss him to the security droid.

“For the record,” the droid said suddenly, “I was not going to harm you.”

Lenny’s jaw dropped open. Oh sheesh, they could _all_ read minds now, even the _droid_ –

“In the event that you needed to be subdued, Jyn Erso is more than adequately equipped to incapacitate or kill you,” the droid added. “But you seemed more concerned about me. So I thought I would inform you that your concern is unwarranted.”

“Yeah, thanks for the, the clarity, Kay-too,” Lieutenant Rook sighed when no one else spoke. His hard grip on Lenny’s shoulder suddenly released, and he gave him a gentle push. “Okay, Private, just head on into the galley. Easy does it. Go on.”

Lenny walked on eggshells through the cargo bay, trying hard not to look at either the officer or the sergeant as he went. Behind him, he heard Lieutenant Rook walking a few steps, and then stop. “I’m just going to keep him in there for a bit,” he muttered, presumably to the major. “Get him a little caf, maybe patch up some of those wounds.”

“I never touched him,” Major Andor said stiffly.

“No, that would have been the kinder death. Oh, and now I get the eyebrow, yeah, okay, I’m just gonna…go.”

Lenny made it to the galley door just before Rook caught up with him, so the pilot only had to hustle him a few more steps to get him inside the galley and seated at the little table, a cup of lukewarm caf in his hands. Rook sat down heavily in the seat across from him, plunking the caf pot on the table between them and downing his first cup in about thirty seconds. He was pouring another one before Lenny had even managed to process the change in scenery.

“They’re married,” he said at last, sounding a little shell shocked to even his own ears. Well, he _felt_ a little shell shocked.

“Yeah,” Rook nodded, and threw back another long pull of his caf. “They are.” He refilled his mug and then paused, the cup halfway to his mouth, and frowned at Lenny. “How did you not notice that they share a room? We’ve been in close quarters for, what, six days?”

Instantly, Lenny remembered the conversation he’d heard late in the night shift, the major and the sergeant talking quietly as he shuffled to the ‘fresher. And then that time he’d seen the major walking out of his cabin, buttoning up his shirt, and Sergeant Erso appearing a few moments later from that direction.

All the times she’d stood really close to him, practically touching, for no reason at all.

The major’s tense, grim face while she was sleeping off her injury.

In his bed.

Lenny groaned, and slumped to bang his forehead hard against the cold table. He was an _idiot_.

“Yep,” Rook said, not entirely without sympathy. “You sure are.”

Later, when he was done feeling like a complete asswipe, Lenny was going to ask around about that whole “rebel spies have been bio-modded to read minds” things. Right now, though, it probably didn’t take a lot of deductive reasoning to know what he was thinking.

“They don’t have bands,” he said abruptly, sitting up straight and glaring at Rook. “Or marriage tattoos. They don’t even share a name or have the same hair style or do any of the stuff that most worlds, you know,” he gestured a little wildly, “the stuff that lets you know someone’s married without – without – “ _without making a total fool of yourself._

“Kid,” Rook said gently, “they’re _spies_.”

Lenny closed his eyes and banged his forehead back down on the table. It was a nice table. Sturdy. Cool. Nonjudgmental. The table did not care if he was a stupid karker that made a pass at a woman who could probably kill him with her bare hands and was married to a man who smiled like death.

“We’re ten hours out,” Rook repeated, and Lenny listened dully as he poured and downed another mug of caf. He wondered if this was the pilot’s way of dealing with the stress, or if he was just stocking up on caffeine because he knew he’d be the only one calm enough to fly the ship for the rest of the trip. “So let’s just finish our drinks and you can come sit in the cockpit with me for awhile. No one will come slit your throat there, promise. Well, uh, no one will do that anyway,” he hastened to add, unconvincingly in Lenny’s opinion, but he appreciated the effort. “That sound okay?”

No, actually, that did not sound okay. If he survived that long, Lenny would rather spend those ten hours right here, face first in this nice table.

“Look, Tonnor,” Rook sighed, and stood up to put the empty pot back on the caf machine. “It’s done, and as long as you don’t try to touch Jyn again, which would be a really, really, I cannot stress this part enough, _really_ stupid thing to do, you’re going to walk off this ship in exactly the same shape you walked on it, and no one outside of this team will ever be the wiser that this happened, okay? So just - just buck up, man. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Okay, get up, let’s go. To the cockpit. Although, uh, first I gotta hit the ‘fresher. So, go, go on ahead.”

It took a little more urging from the lieutenant, but at last, Lenny forced himself up from the nice, nonjudgmental, non-killer table. Although even with Rook shifting in an uncomfortable little dance behind him, he refused to walk through the cabins without taking a long, careful look down the corridor for any signs of life.

“They’re not going to come out and ambush you,” Rook grumbled at last, giving him a light shove with his metal hand. “They probably won’t come out of, out of their cabin at all until you’re gone, kid. Don’t take that too personally. She scared him earlier with that, you know, injury. I mean, yeah, it’s definitely a little because of you, but not, you know, _all_. Look, will you move it? You’re blocking the, the ‘fresher door.”

He darted into the small ‘fresher and slammed the door, and Lenny swallowed through his tight throat and walked as fast as he could without making a lot of noise towards the cockpit.

Outside the viewscreen, the stars stretched and blurred into a great blanket of blue-white light. His mother had once told him that hyperspace was like riding the breath of the Force, which was silent and peaceful and generally unconcerned with the tiny tragedies and triumphs of brief mortals like him. Usually he found that a bit uncomfortable, but right now, Lenny thought it was a little nice to know that there was something in the universe that didn’t really care if he’d made such a huge, stupid mistake. The Force probably didn’t really care that he’d been handed over to a bunch of spies who really didn’t need him but kept him around as a backup anyway. It didn’t care that he had learned how to crack digital locks (alright, probably only basic ones, but still), and it didn’t care that he hadn’t been much use to the big spy mission. (Sheesh, he didn’t even know what it was all _for_ , in the end.) The Force didn’t care that Lendan Tonnor was a big dope who kissed a girl and almost got clobbered for it, and it didn’t really care that he’d never be able to look her in the face again without flinching. He’d certainly never be able to talk about this mission without thinking of the way her eyes had gone hard and scary when he crossed the line –

Which, on the bright side, was fine, because this was a classified mission right? So if anyone asked him about it, and he got all tense and silent thinking about Sergeant Erso’s face, they would probably just think it was because the mission had been really intense. And it had been! That bit in the market had definitely been…not so fun. But intense, definitely. And just having been picked up for an Intel op was pretty sweet. Gol and Aralin and Kellirov would all be really impressed, anyway. And he got to go home for a bit and have some slushed ice and see the blue pillars. Even if he hadn’t gotten to check on his father’s marker or maybe just take a quick peek at his mother, make sure she was still doing okay alone – well, not everyone got a couple days to go home once they joined the rebellion.

Lenny settled himself in one of the passenger chairs in the cockpit. Yeah, so it hadn’t been his proudest moment, at the end there. But on the whole, he thought, watching the flowing lights and already scripting out what he was going to say to Aralin and the others when he got back, on the whole, he could probably mark it down as a win.


	4. Epilogue: heaven holds a place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Heaven holds a place for those who pray_

 

Cassian stood outside his cabin door and pressed his hand against the frame, breathing slow, deep breaths, thinking of hyperspace formulas, adding in variables, weights, differing engine specs, multiple gravity wells…normally the exercise was an excellent way to focus his mind and get his body under control, slowing his heart rate, easing the tension in his muscles. Eighty-nine possible variables for jump angle, he thought. Thirteen standard differentials for hyperdrive bypass settings. Add a medium sized moon at 7.34767309 × 1022 kilograms...

Approximately five steps to his left was the door to the galley, on the other side of which sat a twenty-year-old idiot that part of Cassian was dying to confront again. He knew, after all, exactly how close to hold a blaster barrel to someone’s eye to maximize terror (roughly four centimeters – any closer and the Human brain would automatically switch focus to the non-blocked eye, any further and action holos had taught people to believe they could actually dodge the shot). The idiot kid who had – knowingly or not – assaulted Jyn and left her edgy and tense and silent was probably sitting down at the table. Cassian could have his pistol four centimeters from Private Tonnor’s left eye before he ever registered his commanding officer entering the room. And whatever Bodhi said about it being over, there were still several choice words Cassian would like to spit into that wide-eyed, oblivious face.

_Did you think you were some hero in a romantic action holo?_

_She liked you and she didn’t want to hurt you, so she stood there letting you touch her while she was figuring out how much she was allowed to react._

_Do you have any idea how long it’s taken her just to smile around people?_

_Sometimes she still turns her face away from **me** when she can’t hide an emotion on it. That’s what her life has taught her to do. She has scars where the lesson landed hardest._

_Did you not see her expression when you grabbed her?_

_Could you not read her body language?_

_Are you in fact the stupidest piece of malfunctioning brain matter to ever fire a neuron in the history of the universe?_

But there was no use in it, even if he terrorized the boy into passing out, even if he legitimately lost control and physically hurt him – it wouldn’t undo the hooded look in Jyn’s eyes when she marched into their cabin and shut the door. It wouldn’t take away the wary set of her shoulders.

Cassian’s hands felt cold and clammy pressed against the chilled metal of the bulkhead, and his heart was still twisting painfully in his chest, rage and fear and a desperate need to pull Jyn in tight and feel her arms around him all warring in his head. The hyperspace formulas, it seemed, were not doing him much good this time around.

Maybe she needed the space. He could go down into the engine bay with Kay, try to write out his report, get ahead in the research for their next assignment. They already had three in the queue, and one on standby in the event the target ever left his homeworld. Plenty of work to occupy his mind. Quiet, slow, plodding work – that would in no way be enough to distract him from the knowledge that Jyn was probably sitting in their cabin trying to deal with the most recent violation of her trust.

No, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not unless she sent him away.

Cassian bowed his head for a moment, then pushed off the doorjamb and knocked softly.

“Unlocked.” Her voice was quiet, almost too low to hear through the metal door. Cassian keyed in their code and entered, making sure to lock it behind him. Not that Bodhi or Kay would barge in, and Cassian actually doubted the private would be quite _so_ stupid to come to their door now. All the same, it felt good to have a locked door at his back, a tiny security against the unstable world.

Jyn was standing by their rack pulling on a clean shirt, the shirt she had worn on the base infiltration op carefully packed into a small, tight roll next to her open duffel. Cassian preferred to fold his clothes, but “wrinkles” fell far, far below “saving space” on Jyn’s priority list. As he watched, she settled the new shirt across her shoulders and then stowed the rolled one neatly in her open duffel. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she did it, but there was a guarded quality to her movements, a caution in her expression that both confused and unsettled him. He’d expected anger, he’d expected restlessness. He hadn’t expected…nervousness? Worry?

Fear?

Jyn zipped her duffel closed and tossed it into the overhead rack, where they typically stowed their baggage. Cassian felt a faint sense of relief that she hadn’t cleared it off entirely, a signal that she planned to start sleeping up there instead of on the bottom rack with him. Not that she had ever actually done that, but some piece of him always half-expected it, dreaded it. The cramped, hard racks of the various ships they travelled on were difficult enough to sleep in; Cassian already knew that if Jyn withdrew from his, it would be impossible.

She was still fiddling with the brace straps now, aimlessly checking that the buckles holding their gear in place were still tight, busywork for her hands as she watched him from the corners of her eyes.

Cassian cleared his throat, ran through half a dozen different possible openers that might let him segue into the question he really wanted to ask, and finally settled on the direct approach. “Are you alright?" He expected a shrug, a brushoff of some kind, but instead her hands stilled on the straps and she turned her face away from him. His lungs constricted, and he took an involuntary step towards her before he caught himself. “Jyn - ”

“Are you?” Her voice was hard, almost accusatory, but he knew her well enough to recognize it as a defensive move rather than an attack. It bothered him even more than her shuttered expression earlier, but he couldn’t pin down why, exactly.

“I’m not the one he was pawing,” he said softly, curling his fingers into fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out.

Jyn flinched (there was no other word for it, however much she tried to make it look like a natural toss of her head, he knew a flinch when he saw it, and he took a shaky breath, his sense of gravity tilting farther askew). Jyn turned on her heel and paced the short distance from the bunk to the little fold-out sink against the opposite wall. She turned on the water and splashed her face. “He barely touched me,” she said, scrubbing at her cheeks, her forehead, and then her mouth. Cassian’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed where he was, and watched her hands press a little harder against her lips than she probably realized. “And he won’t try again.”

 _Not if he wants to make it back to his unit in one piece_ , Cassian thought darkly, then shook himself. Not the time, and not helping. “I don’t know that he’s smart enough to know better,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. He sounded a little petulant, and the sidelong look that Jyn tossed him said she heard it too, but Cassian found that he didn’t really care. His thoughts were a mess, his own emotions tumbling around and warping his ability to read hers – never an easy task on a good day, almost impossible when he was worked up himself. It was easier to pick out one reaction and focus on it, and at the moment, contempt and anger were the clearest things in his head that didn’t make his guts clench (she wasn’t going to leave him, she packed her bag but she put it back on the bunk, she wasn’t going to sleep somewhere else, she wasn’t going to _leave -_ )

“What did he think it meant, that we slept in the same room?” he demanded, more to distract himself than because he really wanted to know. But Jyn barked a laugh.

“Doubt he noticed. Probably thought I slept in here.” She reached out and tapped against the wall next to the sink.

Cassian looked at the wall and mentally ran through the freighter’s layout. On the other side of that wall next to their cabin was –

“The water heater closet,” he said flatly. Did the fool think she wedged herself in between the heater and the vaporator and slept standing up? Curled up in the storage boxes jammed into the small space? Hung upside down from the ceiling like a shyrak?

Jyn shook her head and tapped the wall again with the flat of her hand, then folded the sink back up, double checking it was locked into place. Cassian watched for a moment longer to see what busy work she would do next to avoid looking at him, but she just reached up and pulled her kyber necklace free, worrying the stone between her fingers with one hand and staring at the wall.

No, not the wall. Her head was still turned slightly away from him, her shoulders braced as if for a blow, but she was watching him through her eyelashes and –

And waiting.

Waiting for _what?_

Cassian unfolded his arms and made himself relax his jaw, unclench his hands. Something was wrong, and looking like he was about to commit murder probably wasn’t helping. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Now she did shrug, although her tight grip of her crystal undermined the casual brushoff. “Fine.”

Cassian considered this, noting the divots her crystal was digging into her fingertips, the tension in her jaw despite her clear attempts to look unaffected, the way her weight was balanced on her toes like she was prepping to launch into a fight – or to run. “If everything is fine,” he said slowly, wondering if he should just shut his mouth and walk away after all but knowing that he couldn’t, “then why are you afraid?”

Jyn’s fingers stilled on her crystal, and for a moment he thought she was holding her breath.

“Do you think,” she asked, mirroring his careful tone, “that I led him on?”

Cassian stared at her.

She shifted her weight uncomfortably, still not turning towards him but definitely still watching from the corner of her eye. “Do you?” she growled after a moment, apparently misinterpreting his stunned silence for something else. Judgment, perhaps.

Cassian understood in a startled rush, although it left him even more off-balance, almost lightheaded with the sheer _wrongness_ of it. She thought he was angry with _her?_ That he blamed _her_ for the galaxy’s least observant fool of a private?

Cassian strode across the narrow space and squeezed between her and the sink, forcing her to step back towards the bunk. The move put him directly in her eyeline, but it also opened up a path to the door. He needed her to know that if she ran from him, he would never stop her. (Please don't run. Please don't - ) But he also needed her to _look at him._

“Jyn,” he said in the firmest, calmest tone he could muster. “No.”

She glanced at the door, and he saw her mark the open path, saw her close her eyes and bow her head in acknowledgement, but to his great irritation (and perhaps, a little panic), she didn’t raise her chin and look up at him, even now. Instead, she fixed her eyes on his chest and gripped her crystal tight with one hand. “He’s right, though. I was…” she grimaced, made a helpless gesture with her free hand. “Nice.”

“ _Bodhi_ was _nice_ to him,” Cassian snorted, loading his contempt into the word. “Nicer.” Her bowed head made his stomach roil, made his muscles feel unpleasantly tight, and Cassian gave in to the impulse to touch her, reaching out and pressing the tip of his finger to her chin. He put the barest pressure on her, a request more than a demand, and to his extreme relief, she lifted her face enough to at least look at his eyes through her lashes. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes, though, and Cassian dropped his hand and kept still, lowering his voice but not moving closer. “You were a good sergeant looking out for a greenhorn. Tonnor saw what he wanted to see, Jyn.”

She said nothing, just watched him. Cassian focused on keeping his breathing steady and his face as open and sincere as he could, despite the near overpowering urge to do…something. Anything. But there was nothing he could do but wait, and let her look at him. She was still poised to fight, or run, her weight forward on the balls of her feet and her shoulders still braced as if for a blow.

 _Carajo_ , did she think he was going to _attack_ her?

“Jyn,” he whispered, and when he was sure she was looking at him, he closed his eyes and dropped his head, and let his hands hang loose and empty at his sides. Short of dropping to his knees in front of her (difficult in this cramped spot they had chosen), there was nothing else he could think of that would make him appear less of a threat to her.

Cassian waited.

Jyn sighed, and Cassian nearly gasped with relief when he felt her hands glide over his collarbone to settle tentatively on the curve of his shoulder and neck. He opened his eyes cautiously and saw that she had stepped into his space, her weight dropped back on her heels and her shoulders no longer a hard line. She met his gaze and her mouth twisted slightly into a lopsided, uncertain smile. Her hands were tender against his neck, her callouses scraping the sensitive skin and making him shiver despite his best efforts to remain perfectly still. She looked – not calm, not relaxed and happy, but no longer on the defense. No longer afraid.

Afraid of him. _Force and fuck_ , he had better stay in the cabin until they offloaded the private, or he might just do something...unprofessional. Well, so long as Jyn stayed, he could manage too.

As delicately as if he were handling a porcelain figurine, or a bomb, Cassian lifted his hands and rested them lightly on her hips. His right thumb brushed over the top of her trousers, frowning at the sensation of the thin bandages from her most recent injury. Jyn tilted her chin up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge, and the relief cascaded through him at the familiar expression. It had been a nasty injury, a broken rib and a long gash down her side, and though the bacta patch and bone stabilizers seemed to have worked exactly as needed, Cassian recalled with hateful clarity the twelve or so hours he had sat next to her waiting to see if she showed signs of internal bleeding.

Jyn must have figured out which direction his thoughts were turning, because she grabbed his right wrist and tugged his hand higher around her back, shuffling closer and slipping her arms around his waist. Cassian waited until she leaned forward and finally, finally relaxed against him, and then he let himself tighten his grip and pull her close, pressing his face against her hair. It was okay. They were okay. They had survived another op, retrieved valuable intel and sabotaged a centralized Imperial supply hub. Jyn had been hurt, but was healing fine. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t leaving.

“You called me your wife,” Jyn murmured against his throat, and Cassian licked his lips, reminding himself again – _she isn’t leaving_ – not to panic, not to broadcast his nerves to her.

“You _are_ my wife,” he said simply. _And I liked saying it_ , he realized with a start. That was…new. Unexpected.

Jyn ran a hand up his spine and down again, ending with her palm pressed against the thick white scars on his lower back. “You never tell anyone.”

“You want me to?”

“No,” she shook her head slightly, ran her hand up and down again. Cassian closed his eyes and slipped his hand up to her scalp, brushing her hair back from her face and combing his fingertips gently down her scalp. “Too dangerous,” she turned her head to give him a little better access to her hair, humming low in her throat in pleasure because she liked when he touched her like this. Cassian felt a little more of the irrational fear churning through his head go still and quiet.  “But still…” she tugged at his shirt tail, pulling it free from his trousers and slipping a warm hand under to touch his bare back.

“Yes?” Cassian’s voice caught a little as she traced a soft line up his spine, her arm tugging his shirt up as she went and exposing his rapidly heating skin to the cool air of the cabin.

“I kind of liked it,” she admitted, and pressed her face against his shoulder, as if she had just confessed something embarrassing.

“Well that’s,” Cassian inhaled sharply as Jyn rolled her body along his and smiled against his throat at his response, “good,” he finished a little lamely, his thoughts starting to go warm and fuzzy around the edges.

“Cassian,” Jyn abruptly lifted her head to look at him, honest and direct (and the last of Cassian’s anxiety faded, replaced with the burn of Jyn’s eyes on him). Her mouth curved again into a smile, a real one this time, confident and happy. “Come down here.”

“As you like,” he smiled back, and bent to kiss his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mass of earth's moon = 7.34767309 × 1022 kilograms. I know this was a burning question on everyone's mind.


End file.
